Of Crystal Shards
by robinsparkles14
Summary: Tumblr prompt for six months of Rumbelle: Belle breaks something in Mr. Gold's pawn shop. Rated T because of reasons. One shot. Enjoy!


**Title: OF CHRYSTAL SHARDS**

**Author: robinsparkles14**

**Rating: T**

When you think about it, this really isn't her fault at all. When you think about it, it's _his_ fault for leaving her alone in the shop. He'd given her one instruction when he left to get them both lunch: Don't touch anything. But saying that to Belle is like saying it to a six year old. She's overly curious, and he knows how clumsy she is, if the first week she'd lived in the Dark Castle was any indication. She has a talent for breaking things, he should have known better than to have left her alone with a bunch of fancy, expensive antiques.

But looking down at the completely shattered crystal ball, she knows there's no way he's going to except that as an excuse, or the "It was an accident, Rum!". It _had _been an accident, though. A self inflicted accident perhaps, but an accident nonetheless. She'd found his record player and put on the record he had in, and being as thoughtless as she always is, she'd been dancing around the shop. She must have moved her arm a bit too fast or something because one moment everything was fine, and the next the crystal ball that had once resided on a table in the corner was now in pieces on the floor. And if she gives him that explanation, he's going to be furious, and she knows it.

That's her explanation for diving behind the counter when she hears the bell jingle above the door. She knows how silly it is. Obviously, he knows she's still there. He'd driven her here this morning and his car is still in front of the shop.

But still, it's not very nice of him to laugh about it. She hears his chortle from behind the counter and knows instantly how busted she is. She peeks over the countertop, knowing how guilty her eyes look when they meet with his.

"You're certainly jumpy today, dearie," Mr. Gold observes.

Her guilty eyes flicker toward the pile of glass he obviously hasn't noticed for a split second before jumping right back to him. "Um," she says, "Yeah, I...I guess."

Wow. Two thumbs up for that amazing response. Woo.

He knows she's done something she's ashamed of, she can see that he knows by the way he looks at her. "Something you'd like to tell me?" he presses.

Belle's eyes widen and she bites her lower lip. "No," she says. And it's not a lie. There isn't anything she'd _like _to tell him, "Not really."

He narrows his eyes at her. "Are you sure?"

She gulps. "Mm-hmm," she says, nodding. He opens his mouth to say something, but in a moment of stupidity, her eyes flicker again toward the pile crushed glass.

And, of course, his eyes follow her line of sight.

She says a quick prayer that he won't murder her for this. (or worse, that he'll withhold sex! She shudders at the thought.) She's closing her eyes and crossing her fingers just so that she won't have to see his reaction.

Obviously, she knows he isn't going to kill her, or hit her, or let her go again. She's pretty sure that he's learned those things are fairly...incredibly stupid. But he holds so much more over her. He could take so much away over this. She goes over the last few months since the curse had broken in her mind. He could ruin her if he wanted to, and after this, he's going to want to.

She cracks her eye open just a little, and then opens both eyes wide and scoffs loudly.

He's _grinning_ at her. She just broke something of his out of sheer stupidity, and apparently he thinks it's the most hilarious thing in the world.

"You know," he says between laughs she can tell he's trying to hold back, "it's just a silly crystal ball. It doesn't have much significance."

"But," she says, and she sounds as confused as she feels, "you told me not to touch _anything_, not just certain things with significance!"

He waves her words away. "Please," he says, and she rolls her eyes at the word, "I could never trust you to not break something."

She shakes her head at him and gives him the 'I'm-having-none-of-this' look. He loves that look, which is a good thing, because he gets it quite often.

"It's alright," he says softly, like he's sharing a secret with her, "I like it when you break my things."

She giggles, but tries to keep her face the same. "I noticed," she says.

Both of them wind up thinking back to the first day she'd been in the castle. She'd been terrified of him then, but she'd never let it show. She'd known that was all he expected of her, and one thing he really loves about Belle is that she never does what he'd expect.

Except breaking his things. He'd known that was going to happen, and not because of the crystal ball. He just knows his little housekeeper.

He holds up the paper bag from Granny's and a paper coffee cup. "I got us lunch," he says.

She grins at him and he passes her the coffee cup. "Your tea, milady," he says, and bows to her. She curtsies in response.

"Thank you, sir," she says, giggling and taking it from him.

He smiles and watches as she walks away, setting her tea onto the counter and grabbing a broom and dustpan in the back of the shop. "What was that crystal ball, anyway?" she calls back to him.

"It tells the future. Or, at least, it did before the curse. And before a certain clumsy little housekeeper got her hands on it."

She blushes and looks away. "No," she says, "I mean, who did it belong to?"

He shakes his head. "That's a story for another day, dearie."

She nods and sweeps the glass shards into the dustpan. "I suppose that's alright. I'm not sure I even want to hear after the story about the puppets." She shivers, looking at the gruesome puppets that were apparently Mr. Marco's parents before Archie made a bad decision. It seems a lot of what's in the shop comes from bad decisions. When people make deal with Rumpelstiltskin they must not have any idea what they're getting into. Hell, Belle hadn't really known what she'd been getting into, but obviously her deal had worked out in both their favors...eventually.

He laughs at her puppet comment. "Suit yourself," he says.

She picks up with dustpan and broom and waltzes over to him. "Alright," she says softly, dumping the glass into the trashbin slowly and letting the broom slide out of her hand before wrapping her arms around his neck, "I will today."

He shakes his head down at her. "You are utterly encourageable," he informs her, his accent thick on the words.

"I know," she says, leaning in and kissing him once softly, "It's a problem."

"Well.." he murmurs, "I beg to differ. Personally, I don't think it's a problem at all."

She nods. "It can be quite beneficial," she agrees with a giggle.

He covers her mouth with a kiss. "I hope you aren't worried about lunch getting cold," she mutters in his ear.

"Not in the slightest."


End file.
